


Who Sleeps in Forgetfulness

by ChromeHoplite, gxlden



Series: Sebaciel Dialogue Prompts [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Amnesiac Ciel, Angst, Coma Ciel, Fluff, M/M, SebaCiel - Freeform, married sebaciel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxlden/pseuds/gxlden
Summary: After having been in a coma for three weeks, Ciel wakes up to a stranger.





	Who Sleeps in Forgetfulness

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble number 3 - with the dialogue prompt: "I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?"

Nothing had changed in over three weeks. Sebastian still slept at the hospital, back aching, pinpricks of dulled pain aggravating his spine as he lay slumped over from the orange upholstered chair, head in his arms on the hard, green regulation mattress, angled so that he could look up at Ciel's face should he detect a change in the rise and fall of his chest. 

And if he didn't, the machines would alert him.

His phone vibrated on the tray where untouched Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes had been left -- not for Ciel of course; the kindly nurses had begun bringing it in for him when they’d notice he did not leave Ciel’s side to go grab a bite. _You’ll be no good for him if you don't take care of yourself,_ they would tell him, but he would simply nod, smile weakly and twist the band of white gold along his thinning finger in response. Ciel wouldn't wake up. He knew it, Ciel’s parents knew it, even his doctors knew it. No one survived that kind of trauma and walked away unscathed. Sebastian just couldn't bring himself to make that final decision. 

He turned off the phone, not even bothering to see who had been calling and returned it to the tray. His head found Ciel’s feebly beating heart again, while his hand draped itself over the unconscious man’s torso. “So I thought you might like to pack some local food and head out for a hike to see the Temple of the Moon and the Sun Gate on our third day in Machu Picchu,” he told Ciel, recounting the itinerary he’d planned for them for their upcoming wedding anniversary just two weeks away.

While Sebastian spoke of the sun and the moon and the beauty of the sky in South America, all Ciel could see was darkness. Black. Empty. All he could feel was loneliness. Expanding and contracting, careening and staying still, Ciel was completely lost. He was untethered, merely floating through a morbid limbo with nothing of substance to keep him grounded. Except for the quiet hum of a voice, soothing in its cadence, almost constant in its presence. Ciel could always hear it, but just barely. 

But now it began to grow louder. 

The voice slowly guided him back to consciousness, leading the way through the thicket of inert black ichor. It was familiar, like he'd been listening to it for years. It was soft yet authoritative. It was a nice voice, Ciel thought, but he could not fully appreciate it as he fought to open his eyes and his mouth for the first time in a month. It was almost excruciating, an unreasonable strain, and all he could manage was a meager croak and a twitch of his fingers beneath the sudden squeezing pressure of the hand holding his. 

Sebastian dismissed the small noise in Ciel’s chest as the gurgling of his stomach echoing in his core. For the umpteenth time, he regretted not eating the wasted food, knowing that Ciel would be more than glad to finish it off, given the opportunity to do so; that boy loved his food. “... and there’s this little private villa I reserved by Gocta Waterfalls; I know how loud you like to be… there won't be anyone else around for a mile,” he teased, squeezing Ciel’s hand and rubbing small circles into his knuckles, careful not to disturb the needle in the back of his hand. Maybe he’d squeezed a little too hard, because he swore he felt _something_ move in his grasp… an involuntary twitch of Ciel’s hand? “I’m sorry baby,” he apologized bringing the hand to his lips and kissing Ciel’s palm. 

There was no mistaking the way his fingers curled inward, grazing Sebastian’s cheek and chin as they closed into a fist. The sensation traveled upward, through his wrist to his forearm and elbow, muscles contracting and flexing of their own accord. The fine lashes on Ciel’s eyelids stirred and his brow furrowed as he grunted, louder this time, and finally opened his eyes. 

He was having another dream, he had to be; the one where Ciel was waking up, when he’d finally utter his name and wrap his arms around his neck. In return, Sebastian would tell him how he loved him, how he missed him, that he’d not left his side because there was no place he’d have rather been. 

But it wasn’t a dream this time; he only ever felt the yawning hopelessness that had been the lack of Ciel’s _presence_ when he himself was conscious. The ache still lingered there, even as his eyes met the tired cerulean of his husband’s and he was vaguely aware that he was holding his breath, like if he were to move, even a millimeter, the scene before him would dissolve. “Ciel?” he finally whispered, words thick and muffled as if his mouth were stuffed with cotton balls. 

Ciel’s chapped lips parted, but all that came out of him was a creaky breath, the meager ghost of what he wanted to say riding on the back of the air he exhaled. 

Sebastian took Ciel’s small face in his hands with reverent delicateness, thumbs smoothing his cheeks as he brought their foreheads together. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” he breathed between them, eyes instantly swimming with unshed tears, prickling and burning as if they held acid. He smiled as he pulled away, commanding the tears welling in his eyes to stay put, to not cloud his vision of Ciel. His heart beat a mad tattoo in his chest, mimicking Ciel’s as the spikes intensified on the monitor to Sebastian’s left. 

He knew he should call for the nurse, for a doctor, to tell them Ciel was awake, but he only wanted his love to himself for just a bit longer. He would have been happy staring into Ciel’s eyes for hours, he’d missed them so when they’d been shut, but the distinct widening of them, pupils dilating and darting from side to side and looking everywhere but at Sebastian had him rethinking his selfishness. 

“It’s okay… it’s okay sweetheart, I’m here,” he repeated as his hand slammed the green button at the side of Ciel’s bed to call the nurse in. “Look, it’s me… It’s Sebastian, I’m here,” he told him, trying to make his shaking voice even to soothe Ciel as his hands hovered over him, at a loss for what to do to help calm him. 

A heavyset, redheaded nurse came in, accompanied by the nursing student she’d been mentoring for some weeks, muttering something about Sebastian having to go and that they would take over from here. 

“No, he needs me,” Sebastian argued, his tone a little cutting when the older nurse put her hand on his shoulder. 

Ciel saw it all from his bed, mouth silently gaping like a fish as he watched the hospital staff usher out his stubborn visitor. Already he was missing the sound of his voice. The door shut firmly behind him, and then Ciel was surrounded by the doctors and nurses, shining lights in his eyes, squeezing his fingers, listening to his chest, probing the body that didn't even feel like his. 

The ability to speak clearly had not yet returned by the time Ciel was done being examined, but the redheaded nurse assured him that everything would be okay in due time. Though Ciel was skeptical, he should have known to trust her wisdom and experience; he fell asleep soon after the doctors had finished with him, but when he awoke around midnight that night, he was able to call a nurse and proudly ask her for a drink of water. 

Sebastian had been pacing the hall outside the nurse’s station, a paper bag with lemon danishes in one hand and a box of donuts in the other, waiting for _Visiting Hours_ to officially start. He hadn’t even bothered going home; instead, he sat in his car for just over ten hours, blasting the music to keep himself awake, playing rounds of Candy Crush every time his lives renewed and watching a couple of movies on his phone all in an attempt to stay awake for fear he’d sleep through the morning. 

Before moving from his Chevy Malibu and into the hospital, he made a quick call to the travel agent to tell them that the trip was definitely still on and that both he and Ciel looked forward to celebrating their first wedding anniversary in Machu Picchu. 

When his phone alarm finally went off, Sebastian pushed through the doors, deposited the donuts on the counter for the nurses and strode into Ciel’s room, his heart fit to burst. “Good morning, Sunshine! I got you your favourite,” he said in a sing-song voice, a smile stretching on his face, accentuating the dimple at his cheek, at the sight of Ciel with his eyes bright and open. 

The second he heard the door down the hallway swing open and bang excitedly against the wall, Ciel knew. It had to be Sebastian, his husband, coming for him as soon as he was allowed to, and Ciel thought he was ready. He had braced himself for their interaction, their glorious bittersweet reunion. 

He just didn't expect him to bring snacks. It was difficult for him to tear his eyes from the little brown bag and the surely delicious spoils it held within and face his visitor. Sebastian, who looked like a kid on Christmas with his gleaming eyes and eager smile, quickly approached the bedside, and Ciel panicked; he wasn't prepared at all. 

“I'm sorry,” he said suddenly, loudly, with more force than he intended. Tears stung the back of his eyes and he almost couldn't bear to tell Sebastian. It wasn't fair to him. Not after everything the nurses had told him: that he had spent every night at his bedside since Ciel slipped into unconsciousness; that he barely left to eat or shower; that he talked to him constantly, holding his hand and stroking his cheek with such a tender affection it made the nurses bite their lips and withhold their own tears. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, gentler this time. “I don't…” he choked out, then tried again. “The nurses told me you're my husband, but I can't remember who you are.”

Sebastian’s grin hadn’t faltered in the slightest. He was used to Ciel’s shit sense of humour; they’d known each other since ninth grade after all. Sebastian even loved him for it -- from his lame _uncle jokes_ to his predictable April Fool’s pranks and incorrect punchlines, but there’d never been a worse time for Ciel’s poor comedic timing. He chuckled nonetheless and kissed the top of his husband’s head, depositing the brown bag onto his lap, “Ouch babe! Have you been saving that one since you’ve been out?” 

The kiss, mild and innocuous as it was, made Ciel flinch. “I've been in a coma for three weeks,” he said flatly, leaving the bag of goodies untouched on his lap as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m lucky to be awake right now. This isn't really the time for jokes.” 

Ciel’s tone was all wrong. It held nothing of the banter or teasing lilt it usually did. Sebastian felt his mouth go dry and his hand shot up at his own throat, massaging it unconsciously as if it would relieve the dessicated sensation there. He searched Ciel’s face; there was no more swelling or bruising from the accident, nothing to distort his features or lay blame for the serious expression he wore. “What do you mean, you don’t remember me?” he asked, taking hold of Ciel’s left hand. The ring finger was bare, save for a small strip of skin that had been untouched by the summer sun; they’d had to cut off his wedding band when they’d brought him in due to the accumulating edema. 

“I mean I couldn't even remember my name when I woke up, let alone yours,” Ciel said, a grim expression clouding his features. It would be too rude to pull his hand away from Sebastian’s grasp now, so Ciel let him hold onto it even though it felt unnatural and forced to him.

Ciel’s hand was slack in his, so Sebastian reluctantly let go, when all he wanted was to just pull his husband closer, as if their bodies touching could somehow make Ciel better. “You don't remember me teaching you to drive stick? Prom? Us getting caught by your parents?”

Ciel’s voice cracked, “I couldn't even remember my parents’ names.…” Twenty-five years of life gone -- an entire slate wiped clean, and Ciel had no idea when, or if, his memory would ever return. The gravity of his situation finally overwhelmed him, and tears rolled slowly down Ciel’s cheek as he sat there in stunned silence. 

Sebastian’s heart did not break, it shattered. “Oh Ciel, don’t… it’s okay…” he hushed, both his hands hovering uselessly over Ciel’s small form in the hospital bed. He looked even smaller now as tears rolled down his face and his breaths came out in shuddering gasps. “It’s going to be okay…” He gave his husband-turned-stranger a tissue from the box on the small nearby table; how he wanted to kiss the hurt away, to hold him and reassure him as he once did. “I’ll… I’ll help you,” he choked, his words heavy with anguish but unmistakably devoted, “we can start over… make new memories…” 

Ciel dabbed at his eyes, nodding and sniffling and trying to compose himself as quickly as he could. Tears wouldn't help in a situation like this. “Thank you,” he managed to say before a deep gasping breath shook his frame. “I don't know what I would have done if I had woken up alone… If I didn't have anybody.” He gingerly reached out and took Sebastian’s hand, giving it a mild squeeze. “So thank you,” he whispered. 

In that moment, Ciel’s hand was a liferaft for Sebastian, and without wanting to, he clung to it like a drowning man. He would do anything to take the fear out of his stormy eyes, to replace the confusion written there with its usual calm blue. Ciel had always had his back, through coming out to his parents and their subsequent rejection, bouts of depression and unemployment, always reciting their marriage vows as if he had to excuse his infallible loyalty. And now he would be an anchor for Ciel, whatever that meant -- friend or spouse, family or acquaintance. “In sickness and in health, through the best and worst of what is to come,” he murmured, rubbing circles on the back of Ciel’s hand and giving him a compassionate smile. 

The warm hand holding tight to his, Sebastian’s recitation of their vows, the dedication in his voice… Ciel took a deep breath. He was a lucky man, and he had married well, apparently. He wished he could remember their wedding day. 

“Give me something to remember you with now,” he said suddenly, glancing up into the concerned pair of eyes hovering over him -- warm in color, infinite in their depth. He could imagine what it would be like to wake up, looking into such a handsome face each morning. “When they make you leave tonight, I want to have something to think about, something that’ll connect me to you,” he said. 

Sebastian didn’t want to leave tonight; not now that he knew Ciel’s condition. The thought of Ciel waking from one of this nightmares or from a restless slumber and having nobody to comfort him, absolutely gutted Sebastian. He wanted to be there to rub his back, to hold him and soothe him back to sleep. 

He leaned in, eyes boring into Ciel’s, determined not to let him down on this first request. Sebastian held his face gently, thumb tracing down his husband’s cheek and over his plump bottom lip like he had in front of friends and family, witnesses to their love just over a year ago. He drew in a nervous breath then pressed his lips to Ciel’s. They were as soft and as yielding as he remembered, and once they began to move together, it was as though they’d never been apart. 

Ciel’s hands wandered up, grasped Sebastian's wrists as his _husband_ held his chin so delicately. It was like kissing a stranger -- Sebastian _was_ a stranger to Ciel, and yet their kiss was so familiar, so intimate. When Ciel drew away, his eyes were wide with wonder, with excitement. He felt something, more than the warm lips pressed against his chapped ones and Sebastian’s hands on his face. It was deeper, some spurious connection that he didn't want to believe. There was a brilliant ray shining in his mind, a sort of bright revelation casting light on the shadow of a memory buried deep in his unconsciousness. 

“I remember kissing you,” he whispered. “Why do I remember kissing you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to hit the kudos button on your way out :)


End file.
